Tuesday, November 3, 2009

against forgetting

by paul harrison

i read their verse and weepthe ones who loved and foughtand struggled onthe ones who were disappearedoften, foreverwho suffocatedin the cattle train cornerslicking parchment tearsfrom splintered plankswho wrote poemsin their own blood and feceson torture cell wallsor if they were luckytobacco leavessmuggled out to dawnwho wrote completed worksin the libraries of their soulto recite in camps and gulagsfor blackest dread and ghostswho even wrote for future's hopeon paper scrapshidden in the pocket of a corpseunearthed on judgement dayfrom massive graves of insane deathwho wrote against forgettingand the dying of the lightwho wrote for lifeas napalm and ordinancescorched and shook the screaming earthwho declaimed behind the barricadesthe check points and wallswho were arrested at gunpointin monstrous swoopsinterned, beaten senselessthen dangled by their heelsfrom colonial roofswords falling like penniesfrom their silent screamswho still sang their poemsof home and freedomin the desert campslips stitched and torn and mutewho witnessed then resistedwith all their words and soulwho were expelled and exiledfor expressing conscienceand critical faculty in the blinding lightwho wrote by candlelightin the ghettos and cellarsof Palestine and Poland, emaciatedthe barrios, the townships and slumswho sang from the rooftopsthe tunnels and trailsof death by Capital and fascist lies-indomitable poets allof life, revolt and loveuncensored and unrepentantand not forgotten now.